


Post Blue

by sanyumi (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, snk - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, aaaaaah, slow buildup, where is my editor??, will add more characters and relationships as i write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:13:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sanyumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[HIATUS] Life is a story full of shit. It's about drugs, music, and sex. It's about knowing when to start and when to stop. It's a story of finality, of closure, of when to move on. But mostly, it's about love, family, courage, and growing up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This entire story is based on this prompt from littleboyyandere on tumblr: 
> 
> “Eren Jaeger moves to a small town with his older sister Mikasa when they are yet again transferred to a new foster family.. They don’t know a single person and start at the local High School, they quickly befriend Armin Arlert and his cousin Annie Leonhart. Both Armin and Annie are big stoners and know every person who does, supplies or deals drugs throughout the school. Armin introduces Eren into the world of weed and homosexuality, while Mikasa learns how much fun partying, alcohol and drugs can really be.  
> When Armin introduces Eren to the biggest dealer, Levi Rivaille, Eren isn’t sure if it’s the buzz from his latest high or if something real instantly sparks between the two, but Eren wants to find out.  
> Levi keeps telling Eren to stay away, but will Eren comply or try and search for a new high?”
> 
> I never asked explicitly, but I assumed creative control over this prompt. 
> 
> This... is my first attempt at an SNK fanfiction! Will it suck?? Please tell me! Thanks and I hope you enjoy the madness that is to come!

 

 

“Eren, look at me.”

…

“Eren!”

Mikasa sighed, staring down at her older brother who was currently laying on top of his luggage in the middle of the baggage terminal in JFK International Airport. She nudged her boot against his bottom and pulled it back just in time to miss his arm come out and swat at the air.

“You embarrass me,” she said plainly.

“Good,” the huddled body spoke, voice muffled by duffel bag.

Mikasa rolled her eyes. Honestly, you'd think she was the older sibling. She looked around, watching people walk past disinterestedly or glance quickly at the body on the floor and continue about their business. It was crowded, people huddled around the baggage carousel looking for their belongings, people running around and people hugging. Taxi drivers waited near the door with signs offering inexpensive rides and luggage help.

Mikasa sighed, she hadn't spotted anyone holding a sign for them though, but she still had to get Eren off the floor soon. What a horrible first impression.

“Eren, seriously. Get off the floor, you're being ridiculous,” _as usual_ , Mikasa bit her tongue.

Eren remained silent. This was his version of throwing a temper tantrum. He knew there was nothing he could do about it, so he suffered in silence... or the silence he made up in the loud airport. Eren just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, glaring at the blue material of his duffel bag.

“Eren, I think I found Mister Artlet. There's a guy holding a paper with our name and I'm certainly not going to call him over here, so you better be off the ground in two seconds or I'm leaving you.”

It was an empty threat, both siblings knew that. But Eren sat up anyway, noticing the way Mikasa visibly relaxed, running a hand through her black hair.

“This time will be different...” Mikasa said softly, hopefully. Eren scowled. He doubted that. Mikasa was always so optimistic about these foster families.

They shouldered their bags and Eren pulled along a third suitcase to an older looking man with dull blue eyes and gray hair. He smiled kindly, skin wrinkling up like folded paper and offered to take the rolling suitcase which Eren handed over without a word. He tried to keep the disappointment from his face and failed.

 

 

The car ride was uneventful. The man, Christopher Artlet, talked about himself and his family, that his grandson currently lived with him and how they were the only one's living in the house, but family visited often and such...

Eren barely paid attention, staring out the window. His eyes craned upwards most of the time, checking out the tall buildings they passed and trying to find the tops. Instead he saw gray skies and gray streets and more gray buildings. He looked back down to watch the scenery blur by, cars, people, and vendors. Eren frowned. No green. It was sad.

Mikasa looked over at her brother, concern in her eyes. They had never lived in the city before... this was their first foster family that didn't live upstate. And although Mikasa heard Mr. Artlet speaking about Manhattan with fondness and history in his voice, she couldn't bring herself to feel any excitement with her brother's slumped shoulders and slow breathing.

Miksasa took Eren's hand in hers against the seat and leaned back, staring out her window as well.

 

 

At least the apartment was on the first floor

Eren stepped through the door of apartment 159, following Mr. Artlet and inspected his surroundings.

It was small, was the first thing Eren noticed, not that he cared about size, but there would be four people living in this home now and Eren wasn't looking forward to it. As he walked further into the living room, a brown leather couch taking up most of the room which faced a giant analog TV, he watched Mr. Artlet venture further in, going down a hallway and prompting them to follow.

Eren exchanged a brief look with Mikasa and they both continued on, soon coming into a large bedroom with a bunk bed.

“Ah...” Mikasa was about to complain but shut her mouth, knowing it was best just to be grateful for what they could get but Eren obviously didn't think before he acted and groaned, dropping his duffel bag and flinging himself onto the bottom bunk, laying still, obviously upset.

“Sorry about my brother,” Mikasa spoke to Mr. Artlet who either wasn't affected by Eren's immature behavior, or hid it very well. Probably the latter, if what he said in the car was true, that he looked after many children before they were reunited with their parents.

“It's just been a long flight...” that was a lie. The flight had taken about 4 hours, killed quickly with Mikasa's book and Eren's iPod.

Mr. Artlet waved it off, kind smile back on. “Don't worry about it,” he gazed down at Eren, who was silent. “My grandson is about your age. You'll be going to school together once spring starts...”

“Joy.” Eren said sarcastically.

“Eren,” Mikasa warned, tone reprimanding. Honestly this stubbornness was getting ridiculous.

Eren got up suddenly, his eyes dead and walked past the duo, heading back to the living room.

“Where are you going?” Mr. Artlet voiced his concern as he followed him out, Mikasa on his heels.

“Out. It smells like old people in here,” Eren replied dryly, glad he hadn't taken his coat off as he hastily made his way to the front door.

“Wait, you don't know the neighborhood, you'll get lost-”

“I'll go with him,” Mikasa interrupted like a snap of a whip.

Eren had his hand on the door knob when he spun around. “No!”

Everyone in the room froze, Mr. Artlet with a defeated look in his eyes and Mikasa's frustrated.

“Eren, remember what the social worker said...”

Eren looked to the floor, biting his lower lip. “I won't go far,” and with that he pulled the door open and slammed it behind him.

 

 

_The social worker rubbed his eyes and sighed, staring at the two teens sitting before him._  
  
_He shook his head as he spoke. “How is it possible for two kids under the age of 17 to go through seven foster homes in a year?” He sounded astonished and irritated. Eren cracked his knuckles under the table._

“ _Neither of you have lasted more then two months. You always manage to get yourself into some kind of trouble that has you kicked out and re-located.”_

_Eren rolled his eyes. He didn't understand why, at these meetings, the social worker always had to reiterate what they already knew. It wasn't like it was their fault though, Mikasa and him. It wasn't their fault the government sucked at finding them decent homes, kids their age, nice families. Wasn't it the government's job to figure out how to bring them back together with their dad?_

_Noticing Eren's childish behavior, the man picked up a file and read through it. “Your case files are horrendous...” If the man were to read the file aloud, the two teenagers would hear of their experiences in the past year in note form (although they had been in this godforsaken program for the past three years). They would hear how Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman have been moved into seven different foster homes in 2012. Two of which where boarding schools. Jaeger, 17, full of tension and built up anger that obstructs his everyday life. His anger was the main reason for the many re-locations. Ackerman, 16, seemingly no anger issues, but her need to protect Eren when he finds himself in trouble and her quiet, standoffish attitude ruins any promise the younger girl had._  
  
_He tossed the file back on the wooden surface, it landed with a_ plop, _heavy with paperwork of prior families._

“ _Care to explain to me what happened this time?” The man was talking about a fight that had broke out in the home they had just been removed from yesterday. Eren had gotten into a fist fight with the 19-year old son. The parent's weren't home and Mikasa had only walked in to see the older boy straddling Eren on the floor, hands on his throat. But she knew that Eren had started it._

_The siblings were silent, Eren tonguing the inside of his cheek, which was still swollen from a punch the older boy had thrown._

“ _Well?”_

 _Eren made a_ pssh _sound, looking off the the side._  
  
_“He insulted Eren. Eren punched him, and he was losing the fight so I stepped in.” Mikasa murmured._  
  
_“I was not losing the fight!” Eren protested, head whipping around to glare at Mikasa._  
  
_“Of course not. He didn’t really have you on the ground, ready to cut off your air supply,” anyone over hearing would have thought Mikasa was being sarcastic, but Eren heard her worried undertones, and that made him seethe._  
  
_Eren was about to argue once more when the social worker stepped in._  
  
_“Enough!” The social worker growled, arms crossed and eyes calculating. Eren grumbled something and looked back to his hands in his lap._

“ _When you were first brought to us, you’re only wishes were not to be split up, but honestly, after three years of putting up with this bullshit, we're considering other options...”_

_The looks the siblings sent him made him close his eyes in exasperation, exhaling sharply through his nose and opening his mouth to continue_

“ _We are sending you to one final home. He's a kind man living with his grandson. We've discovered from your prior homes that small families work out longer. But I can tell you this right now, they will not put up with any of your shit,” he leveled them with an icy glare. “The documents have already been sorted out. Your flight to Manhattan leaves tomorrow. The man's name is Christopher Artlet, he will be waiting to pick you up at the airport.”_

 _The man sighed, scratching at his salt and pepper hair. “Listen to me right now. This is your last chance, we're only looking out for you, doing what's best for_ you _,” he gave both of them a long stare. “Go to school, make friends. And for the love of God, stay out of trouble.”_

_The room went silent. Muffled phone ringing and people walking and talking could be heard outside the walls though._  
  
_Eren, being the one who loved testing the boundaries, spoke up, spitfire in his voice. “What happens if we get into trouble at this house? Kicked out again?”_  
  
_The social worker looked Eren dead in the eyes, very well used to the games this boy loved to play. “Then I will take no hesitation in splitting both of you up. Mikasa will be sent to an all girls boarding school in New Jersey and you will be sent off to Military school.”_

 

 

Eren stared at the sidewalk as he skulked along, hands in his coat pockets. The sun looked like it wanted to come out, but clouds and tall buildings obscured it's warmth.

Eren felt cold, but not just physically. He chewed his bottom lip.

He thought about his father, the social worker, Mikasa, and Mr. Artlet. Eren thought about their situation. They'd had a family once, Mikasa and him.

Eren stopped walking, looking up into the sky, attempting to let the crisp winter breeze combing through his hair to clear his head. He shivered, pulling his coat collar up.

Eren had never been to the city. It looked just like it did in the movies... although the sidewalk he was walking along wasn't convoluted at all. There were barely any people out today. It was still early, but the cloudy sky made everything dark and gloomy. The teenager sighed, steam puffing out of his mouth. How long could he possibly stay in a place like this? It reflected himself too much. He didn't like it. He'd much rather live in color, trees, grass... but he'd never admit it.

The sound of what must have been a trash can falling over started Eren out of his mulling, his head whipping to the source of the noise, which led down an alley.

Eren's brows narrowed, body turning slightly to face the empty, narrow path. He saw a dumpster surrounded by garbage and tin bins, all of which were standing upright.

With hesitant steps, Eren moved to the entrance, resting his bare hand on brick wall. He thought about calling out a greeting, but pursed his lips, scanning with his eyes and keeping his ears strained.

He jumped back when a scream accompanied by another trash can falling over assaulted his ears. Without thinking, Eren surged forward, running into the dark alley, unaware of the sudden drop in temperature.

The sounds of laughter and footfalls joined the metallic noises, becoming louder as Eren ran.

“Hey, get back here!”

Eren's eyes widened in surprise as a blond boy rounded the corner directly in front of him. Their eyes met and he didn't miss the quiver of fear in those blue eyes as they ran past each other. Eren also didn't miss the swollen, purple bruise on the blond's cheek.

With a growl of determination, Eren balled his hands into fists, raising them up as he turned the corner, anticipating company and swung his arm out, connecting his knuckles against the first face he saw.

The boy dropped to the ground instantly, taken by surprise. Eren didn't pay him much attention though. Two more boys were right behind him, yelling profanities and preparing for a fight.

Eren ducked a fist and nailed the first guy in the gut, shooting back up to elbow him in the jaw before finally shoving him to the ground as well.

The third boy, wearing a torn green jacket and a black beanie yelled something about _the fuck are you?_ Before taking off in the opposite direction. Eren lowered his fists, sniffling and taking in his surroundings. Two moaning teenage boys on the ground, the first one he took out glaring daggers at him and pulling himself up.

Eren's veins were buzzing with adrenaline. The urge to fight was something Eren couldn't deny, even if he got his ass handed to him, the feeling of pain just egged him on more, made him want to be stronger.

But before he could raise his foot and kick, a hand around his wrist pulled him back around the corner, down the way he came from.

His first instinct was to shove whoever touched him against a wall, but his determination stuttered once he saw a mop of blond hair.

“What're you-”

“We need to get out of here,” a taut voice spoke quietly. Eren wanted to argue but let himself be led out, back onto the sidewalk.

The blond released his wrist.

They stood silent for a moment, not awkwardly, but a little tense.

“Um, thanks for saving me,” the blond spoke, rubbing a hand over the side of his neck, smiling. “I'm not much of a fighter, but man you took them out fast!”

“Ah, no problem. I hate bullies...” Eren muttered, looking to the ground.

Approaching footsteps caused both boys to snap their attention back down the alleyway.

“We should go,” Eren nodded past the boy in front of him, who understood and turned, walking briskly.

“We're safer now, on the street,” the blond spoke up. Eren followed him, noticing he was going in the direction back to Mr. Artlet's apartment.

“Is this a violent neighborhood, or something?” Eren asked warily. He wouldn't think the social worker was so much of an ass that he'd throw Mikasa and himself into the ghetto or something.

The boy laughed lightly. “Not usually, I was just in a bad territory and, well, my fault.” He shrugged. Eren sighed, feeling sorry for this kid. He looked him up and down, noticing his dingy wardrobe. An oversized blue wool sweater that made him stick out like a sore thumb with that blond hair, and torn khakis with mud brown shoes.

“I'm Armin, by the way,” he turned his head, catching Eren's attention.

“Oh, I'm Eren.”

“Eren? That name sounds familiar...”

Eren raised an eyebrow at that. Eren was a common name, but...

“It's spelled with an 'E'. E-R-E-N,” Eren spelled it out, stuffing his hands back into his jacket pockets, observing Arm's lack of gloves and his red hands. He frowned.

“Oh, that's neat. I've never heard it spelled that way,” Armin smiled. It was a warm, innocent smile. Eren wondered who this kid was and how he could just brush off an three-man attack. His blood boiled when his eyes once again fell upon the bruise on his face.

“Are you okay?” Eren gestured to the large bump. Armin lightly touched it, pulling his fingers back with a wince.

“I'll be fine, I'm used to it,” he shrugged, the light in his eyes instantly fading.

“That's awful, you shouldn't be used to douchebags like them!” Eren waved his arm behind them, prompting him to look over his shoulder to check for said douchebags, but saw nothing.

Armin fell silent. “Well, if I knew how to defend myself...” he trailed off, combing his fingers through his hair.

Quiet filled the space between them for a few minutes, disturbed by sound of wind blowing or cars driving by.

“I could teach you. Self defense... I'm not an expert, but it's good to, you know... be knowledgeable...” Eren spoke, feeling embarrassed.

Armin waved his hand dismissively. “Thanks but... that's not necessary. I don't want to burden you with anything.”

Eren gnawed on his lip again.

“... We don't even know each other,” Armin ventured further, shrugging.

Eren sighed roughly, plopping his arm over Armin's shoulders, making the smaller boy jump and yelp in surprise.

“And this is how we get to know each other,” he smiled cheekily. Armin stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Come on, give me a chance. I just moved here and my sister thinks I suck at making new friends so, let's be friends,” Eren's aquamarine eyes danced with mischief, and Armin had to laugh.

“Okay okay,” he nodded, taking Eren's hand and pulling his arm away. “Since you're so insistent.” He teased.

Eren beamed. He knew there was a personality underneath that careful exterior.

“So, where are we walking?” Eren questioned.

“My place, it's right up here,” he pointed towards a tall, brown apartment complex.

“Oh hey, I live here too!” Eren exclaimed, walking a little bit faster. The cold was getting to him.

Armin kept up. “No kidding? Which number?”

“Um...” Eren tilted his head and rolled his eyes. “I forgot. But it's on the first floor.”

Armin halted his footsteps as they reached the stairs leading to the building's entrance.

“Oh, I think I know why your name sounded familiar!”

Confusion covered Eren's face. “Huh?”

“Are you living with Mr. Artlet?” Armin waited to continue after Eren nodded.

Armin hit his hand on the railing excitedly. “Hey! You must be the new kid staying with us! You and your sister, right? Grandpa told me about it yesterday.”

Eren blinked. “Wait, so, I'm living with you?”

Armin nodded enthusiastically. “Consider it lucky we were able to avoid the awkward first meeting,” he chuckled lightly and Eren found himself smiling because, it was true. Eren did horrible on first impressions. Meeting Armin before knowing who he was erased any stubborn biased Eren had built up. Armin seemed like someone he could get along with, a realization Eren probably would not have made if they met as foster home and foster child.

Eren grinned. “Cool.”

 


End file.
